


rosé.

by moonkid28



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 14:44:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20837222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonkid28/pseuds/moonkid28
Summary: The coupled (former) members (and manager) of the Samwell Men's Hockey team, circa class of '15 to class of '18, gather for a winter evening, between argumentation and curation, away games and visiting lecturers-- the same as they've always done these past years.





	rosé.

**Author's Note:**

> yes my tags are alphabetized. what about it

December 23rd, 2028.

“Okay_ first of all? _That is fucking _fake_, our kids would be _way_ cuter than Bitty and Jack’s,” Nursey argues, half-rising from his seat. Chris has to ease the glass of wine from his hand with a soft chuckle–he’s feeling a little quiet today after a week of roadies– across their living room, he just catches a glimpse of Jack’s subtle smile as he does the same to a slightly tipsy Bitty, who’s pointing an accusatory finger towards the other man.

“You’re a damn liar, Derek Nurse,” he says hotly. “Jack was the cutest baby I ever saw–”

Shitty chokes on his mozzarella stick where he’s settled on the floor, managing a strangled, “_Wrong_, Bits,” and Lardo inhales her drink, sputtering. Chris fights down a little grin as Shits, still coughing, tries to pull out a handkerchief for her, ever the reluctant gentleman. He’s seen Nursey do the same for his niece, so it must be an Andover thing, and he snorts a little to himself imagining high school Nursey and Shitty washing and pressing little handkerchiefs. It’s a funny image.

“What, he was! No hair, but he was a cute lil’ thing!”

“Bits, bud, I was kind of weird looking,” Jack says mildly. “Even Maman says so.”

Derek makes a triumphant noise to the sound of Shitty and Lardo’s laughter, swaying just a touch– Chris hooks a finger into his belt loop hastily to keep him upright– and shouts “Ha! I told you!” then seems to realize for the first time that his wine glass is gone and looks at Chris. He hands it back gingerly, amused, and Derek grins, big and brilliant. He finds himself beaming back at him, and Nursey’s grin turns a little lopsided, eyes going just a little hooded and he leans down for a kiss.

Chowder catches his wrist gently to steady his wine glass. As their lips press together, he feels Nursey’s knee come up beside him and okay, maybe they’re both a little drunk, because he pulls him onto his lap and lets him settle snugly there as Nursey outright _purrs_ against his mouth. Lardo groans.

“You guys are gross. How long have you been married and you’re still in, like, the honeymoon stage?”

“If you’re mad, you can get out of my fucking house,” Nursey says without pulling back much. Chris snorts, squeezing at his husband’s hip– the front door swings open, eradicating any warmth from the fireplace in the middle of their living room.

“Are Nursey and Chris sucking face again?” Holster booms, and Ransom’s cackling makes him grin against Nursey’s mouth.

“You guys talk a lot of trash for dudes who lost our last reunion match,” Chowder says. “Didn’t you fall on your ass trying to make that last save?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Holster says cheerfully. “And here we are, polite, arms full of wine and bread and cheese and that weird ass shitty hipster coffee beer that _Professor Nurse_ has been fucking nutting over.”

“Stop trying to steal my man,” Chris complains as Derek makes an excited noise, shifting on his lap to make grabby hands at Holster. “He’s hard enough to keep as it is. I’m boring, he’s gonna find someone who buys him local craft beer and likes avant garde music festivals.”

“That’s me, not Holtzy,” Ransom says, affronted, as Holster wanders off to their kitchen.

Derek snorts. “You’re not boring and neither of them are stealing me away from you, Frankie–” He kisses his brow softly, and Bitty makes a bit of a cooing noise, which makes Derek grin and Chris roll his eyes slightly.

“I know, Dee. Finish your wine.”

“–but I did write a couple poems about the grocery bagger’s hands.”

“Betrayal!” Holster shouts from the kitchen, fridge slamming shut, and Chris can’t help but to bust out laughing, nearly knocking Nursey out of his lap. His arm swings wildly backwards until he clumsily steadied himself with a hand, and Chris grabs at his waist.

“Chris Chow, you’ve taken a into your home an adulteress, his pretty jade eyes a-wanderin’, never loyal, a painted whore! How do you feel about this?!”

“What’s a painted whore again, babe?” Chris asks.

“An escort who wears a lot of makeup.”

“Oh! Well, your red lipstick looked pretty good wrapped around my dick, so–”

Their friends practically howl with laughter and Derek drains his glass and tosses it onto the couch to press a kiss to his mouth that’s filled with bright laughter and tastes like sweet, pink rosé. He’s laughing himself, and when his smile grows too big, he can feel the press of his husband’s wedding band where his hands cup Chris’ face.

_Life is good,_ Chris thinks to himself, hands sliding into Derek’s back pockets and laughing when he nips at his lip for it._ Life is really, really good. _

**Author's Note:**

> This ship fucks follow me on [tumblr](https://hoenursey.tumblr.com)


End file.
